


flying high

by thepsychicclam



Series: Tumblr Fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flight Attendants, M/M, Mile High Club, flight attendant!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>stiles is a nervous flier, and derek is a grouchy flight attendant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	flying high

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted as a [tumblr fic](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com/post/82252330669/sterek-au-flight-attendant-derek-and-nervous) from a prompt. Thought I'd post it on ao3 for those who may not frequent tumblr :D

Derek grips the side of his cart, glancing down the narrow aisle between the cabin’s seats. He hated people. They had no sense of courtesy, with their legs and bags and _stuff_ just sprawling into the aisle. Didn’t they realize what a pain in the ass these beverage carts were?

Boyd was already making his way down the other aisle, so Derek pushes the cart along. He gives the people pleasant smiles, providing them with sodas, coffee, or alcohol and bags of cheap pretzels. He ignores the woman who grabs his ass and the guy who winks suggestively.

“What would you like to drink?” Derek asks politely. There’s only one guy in the row, seated in the middle of the three seats, hands gripping the armrests in what looks like a painful hold. “Sir?”

“Did you feel that?” the guy says quietly. “Turbulence. Or maybe the engine going out. Those things can happen. I saw this movie once where a plane – “

“Sir,” Derek interrupts forcefully. That snaps the guy out of whatever haze he was in. He turns and looks up at Derek, and Derek’s taken by surprise. He sees people all the time on these flights, has waited on rich gorgeous men and celebrities in first class, but none of them have ever caused Derek’s stomach to do a flip-flop. He scowls in irritation. “Would you like a soda?”

“I’d actually really like a drink,” the guy says. “But I’m too scared to get drunk, because what happens if I get drunk and the plane crashes and I miss the raft? Or I’m too inebriated to put on my oxygen mask?”

“Sir, Wolf Airlines has an impressive safety record,” Derek recites automatically. “I have flown on over a hundred flights over the past years, and each one has been smooth and without issue.”

“They probably pay you to say that.”

“But it’s still true.” The man glances up at Derek and looks at him closely before shaking his head and smiling. Derek’s not quite sure what’s going on, and he’s definitely not happy with the way the passenger’s eyes are making him feel flush.

“Maybe one drink,” the man says.

“Are you even twenty-one?” Derek counters.

The man huffs in offense and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out his ID and hands it to Derek. “Your name is Stiles Stilinski?”

“Nothing’s wrong with my name, _Derek_ ,” Stiles says, reading Derek’s name tag. “Can I have that drink now?”

Derek pours him some orange juice and hands him a small bottle of vodka. As he hands Stiles a packet of pretzels, he drops his voice and says, “Captain McCall is the best pilot Wolf Airlines has. There’s nothing to worry about.” Stiles glances at him in mild surprise, and Derek gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile before moving on to the next passenger.

When he looks up, he finds Erica and Isaac watching him from the middle of the plane with looks on their faces. Derek sighs. There is no way this is going to be good.

*

There are times that being stuck 30,000 ft above the ground with Erica is horrible. Like right now.

“You like him,” Erica cackles as they’re preparing the in-flight dinners. “I saw it. You stood there talking to him – “

“Which you never do,” Isaac adds. “You go out of your way _not_ to talk to the passengers.”

“You smiled at him,” Boyd states.

Derek glares in Boyd’s direction. “I thought you were on my side.” Boyd just shrugs. “Fine, I smiled at him, so what? Management’s always on my ass to smile more, smile bigger, smile like you mean it Derek!”

“I’ve got to see this guy,” Erica says. “I’ll take him dinner.”

“That’s my section!” Derek exclaims.

“We don’t really have sections,” Isaac points out, and when Derek sets his death glare on him, Isaac makes himself busy with stacking trays. “Shutting up now.”

Erica grins in triumph. “Derek likes someone,” she singsongs.

“I hate you all,” he grumbles.

*

“Chicken or vegetarian?” Derek asks, serving the row behind Stiles. As he’s handing out trays of food and preparing drinks, he watches Stiles over the back of the seats from the corner of his eye. Stiles is nervously drumming his fingers against his knees, long slender digits that Derek is mesmerized by. He wonders what they would feel like fluttering against his skin, nervous with pent up arousal. Stiles reaches a hand up to his neck and scratches, then stretches his neck from side to side. Derek gets distracted by the long, exposed line of skin, the pale flesh and smattering of moles.

With a start, he realizes the woman in the window seat is speaking to him. “I’m sorry, ma’am?” She purses her lips and gives him a knowing look, and Derek feels himself flush in embarrassment. After he hands her a coffee, he pushes his cart next to Stiles’ row.

“I’m not hungry,” Stiles says. His leg is bouncing up and down, an unconscious motion. Stiles’ entire body is a tight coil of anxiety, energy that’s squeezing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap from the pressure.

“You need to eat,” Derek grunts. He’s frustrated that he cares that Stiles eats or not, that he notices each nervous tick of his body, from the way he’s chewing his lip, the way his brows are drawn together, to the rigid set of his shoulders.

“What are you, Airplane Food Police?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Derek drawls. “I have a badge in my pocket if you’d like to see.”

Stiles stares at him wide-eyed before throwing his head back and laughing. Some of the tension eases, and he slumps back against the seat. “Still not hungry.”

“Chicken then,” Derek says, boldly reaching forward and twisting the clasp to release the seat table. Then, he sets the meal tray and a bottle of water in front of Stiles.

“Dude, I want a Coke.”

Derek shakes his head. “Nope.”

Stiles balks, his mouth open in indignation. “No? What do you mean no? I can have whatever drink I want with this shitty in-flight meal.”

“No,” Derek says with more authority, leaning forward and getting into Stiles’ personal space. He blames Stiles’ stupid tousled sex hair that looks like he’s had fingers running through it and his stupid eyes and his stupid pink, full lips with the perfect cupid’s bow. What the fuck is it with this guy?

Derek figures he’s already in the guy’s face, just staring at him, so he might as well follow through. “Sugar and caffeine irritate anxiety, keep you awake, and make you more jittery.” Derek places a firm hand on Stiles’ thigh, effectively stilling it. “None of which you need.”

“Oh,” Stiles whispers, and Derek’s so close he can feel warm breath on his cheek. Abruptly, he stands up.

“Anything else?”

“Nope, nu-uh,” Stiles is shaking his head repeatedly. “All good here.”

Derek gives him a clipped nod and pushes his cart to the next row. When he looks up, he sees Erica smirking at him from her own cart up ahead.

*

Derek doesn’t sleep well on overnight flights. There’s too much noise, and he can never get comfortable on the small bunks when he’s off duty and supposed to be resting. Kira and Danny are on duty now, Boyd, Isaac, and Erica in their bunks already asleep.

“Stop moving around,” Boyd mumbles sleepily. “You’re driving me nuts.”

“Sorry,” Derek sighs. He tosses and turns a few more times before getting up and exiting the rest area into the on duty sitting area, where Kira and Danny are playing cards. He joins them just to pass the time.

Half an hour later, a head pops past the curtain. Kira says, “Sir, you’re not really – “

“Derek.”

Derek looks up in confusion to find a disheveled Stiles peeking through the curtain. Kira and Danny look at Derek curiously. One look at Stiles and Derek knows the problem. Without hesitation, he drops his cards and steps outside the curtain into the dark cabin. “Are you okay?”

Stiles nods, but then shakes his head. “Not really. It’s just…a bit hot, in here? And stuffy, like there’s not enough air, and – “

“Come on,” Derek says gently, resting a comforting hand on Stiles’ back and leading him back to his seat. The passengers around him are asleep, all overhead lights off. After Stiles is seated in the middle seat again, Derek takes the one beside him. Stiles looks at him in shock. “You’re having a panic attack. I’m not going to just leave you.”

“It’s not an _actual_ panic attack,” Stiles says. “But it feels like it could turn into one.”

“If you hate flying so much, why are you on a plane?” Derek asks quietly so as not to wake the nearby passengers.

“My best friend, Allison, lives in France. I’m going to visit her. I haven’t seen her in almost two years. Her dad lives in town, so she usually comes to California, but this time I decided to go see her. Alone. When I bought the tickets months ago, my now ex-boyfriend was supposed to come with me, but we broke up not long after I bought the tickets.” Stiles shakes his head. “This was just all around a bad idea.”

“You’re doing fine,” Derek says. “You aren’t even the most panicked passenger I’ve ever encountered.”

“No?”

Derek shakes his head. “We’ve had lots of different freak outs, and vomit. God, I hate it when they vomit.” Derek realizes what he’s saying, and then stops. “I’m sorry, vomit is probably the last thing you want to think about.”

Stiles smiles. “Actually, it’s helping keep my mind off things.” Stiles stretches up and cranes his neck to look around. “Do you have to go, or can you sit with me for a little while?”

Derek knew it was frowned upon, and he needed to get some sleep, but the rest of the crew wasn’t going to say anything. And if Derek tried to sleep right now, he’d be too wound up. “I can stay for a bit.”

Stiles absolutely beams, and Derek thinks he’s maybe the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Then he shakes his head, because _what?_ Maybe he needs sleep more than he realized. Stiles pulls a deck of cards out of his bookbag on the seat beside him. “I saw you playing with the other flight attendants, so gin rummy?”

“Five hundred points?” Derek asks; Stiles smiles and nods. “Deal ‘em out.”

*

Two hours pass before Derek even notices. They play cards, but they also talk. Well, Stiles talks and Derek mostly listens, only adding something here and there. He finds out a lot about Stiles. He is from Beacon Hills, a small town in Northern California not too far away from where Derek grew up, he’s a deputy with the sheriff’s department and following in the footsteps of his father, and he is single. Derek feels bad that it’s the single part which was most interesting to him.

“What about you? Got a girlfriend? Or a, um, boyfriend?” Stiles asks not-so-nonchalantly as he draws a card.

A small smile crosses Derek’s face. “No girlfriend or boyfriend.” Stiles makes a small noise of acknowledgement and Derek finds himself saying, “It’s hard sometimes with the job. I’m gone a lot, and even though my sisters keep trying to set me up with people, it’s just usually a disaster.”

“I’m just awkward,” Stiles says. “That’s my excuse. Obviously you don’t have that, what with the body and the stubble and the overall perfection, and shit, did I just say that out loud?” Derek nods, chuckling quietly to himself. Stiles rubs a hand over his face. “It is way too late and my brain-to-mouth filter is totally off.”

“It’s okay,” Derek says. “And you’re not awkward.” Stiles just looks at him like he’s crazy. “Much.” Stiles laughs and takes another card.

When Derek calls gin, he says, “I should let you get some sleep. Still a few hours until breakfast.”

“Thanks, for this,” Stiles says, and Derek swears Stiles’ cheeks turn pink. “You didn’t have to. Most flight attendants would hand me a blanket and tell me to shut up. The company must pay you extra for going the extra mile.”

“It’s not a company thing,” Derek mutters. Stiles watches him, mouth open in surprise. Derek’s eyes are drawn to his open lips, and when Derek flicks his eyes up, he sees Stiles watching him. Stiles closes his mouth and sticks his tongue out to lick his lips, and Derek’s eyes are pulled down once again. “Definitely not a company thing.”

“That’s good to know,” Stiles whispers.

Derek glances around; it’s after 4 am and even the restless fliers have drifted off. “Bathroom, five minutes?” Derek whispers. Stiles’ eyes go comically wide before his head bobs so hard in agreement Derek’s afraid it’s going to snap off his neck.

Derek gets up and walks to the back, crossing through the open aisle to the other side of the plane, to the bathroom far away from the flight attendant rest area where Kira and Danny are still on duty. Safely inside the tiny bathroom, he looks at himself in the mirror. _What are you doing, Derek?_ he asks himself. He has _never_ done anything like this before. Boyd, Isaac, and Danny are all decorated members of the Mile High Club with Erica as their president, but Derek has never even been tempted. Until tonight.

A soft knock sounds on the door, and Derek opens it slowly. Stiles is on the other side, looking nervous. He steps inside, and the space is so cramped that they’re pressed flush together, from thigh to shoulder. Derek doesn’t look at Stiles as he flips the lock. Then he faces Stiles, who’s looking at him with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

There was just something about this guy.

Derek leans forward and kisses Stiles, and it’s like someone flicked a switch inside both of them. Derek presses Stiles back until he’s sitting on the small sink area, his legs wrapped around Derek’s waist. Derek’s hands are in Stiles’ hair, running through it over and over and relishing the feel of the soft strands beneath his touch as his tongue slides against the soft, warm press of Stiles’ mouth.

He sighs happily when Stiles’ fingers flitter across his chest, and then cup him through his work pants. Without taking his mouth from Stiles, he starts unbuckling his pants, and Stiles does the same to his own. A few moments later, they both have their cocks out and Derek tries to bend down to suck Stiles off, but the bathroom is too small and he ends up bumping his elbow and butt into something. “Shit,” Derek hisses, and Stiles starts giggling. Derek glares up at him, and that just makes Stiles laugh more.

“This is ridiculous,” Stiles laughs, pulling Derek up into a kiss. They settle on jerking each other off, Stiles’ long fingers wrapping deftly around Derek’s cock and sliding, and feeling _oh so good._ Stiles is hot and hard in his hand, and the whole situation is hot and dirty and so exciting that it only takes a few moments before Derek is coming all over Stiles’ t-shirt, Stiles following a few moments later.

They both look down at the mess, and Derek groans. “At least it’s not your pants,” Stiles points out. “No one’s going to notice if my shirt’s covered in come.”

Derek huffs out a laugh and kisses Stiles again. Kissing him just feels _so good_ , and he never wants to stop. “We should probably go,” Derek reluctantly says a few moments later, then drops a few successive pecks on Stiles’ mouth.

As they’re cleaning up and fixing their clothes, Stiles says, “I can’t believe I just joined the Mile High Club. I bet you do this all the time, don’t you?”

Derek shakes his head. “You’re my first.”

“Really?”

Derek feels himself blush. “Yeah.”

Stiles jumps off the sink and pulls Derek in for another kiss.

*

Derek’s standing beside Erica, waiting for the passengers to exit. “You smell like come,” she whispers.

“Shut up, I do not.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says. “I thought you’d never cave.”

When Stiles walks by, he blushes, and Derek finds it the most adorable thing ever. He hands Derek a piece of paper before he hurries out of the plane. Erica just smirks at him.

After they finish clearing the cabin, Derek opens the paper Stiles gave him.

_Thanks for everything last night, especially talking me down from the panic attack. You don’t know how much I appreciate it. Maybe this is presumptuous, but I thought maybe we could have coffee when we’re both back in Cali?_

At the bottom was a phone number.

Derek grins as he pulls out his phone. _Hi,_ he texts.

Later, he’s in the hotel about to fall asleep when his phone buzzes. The number is unfamiliar, but when he opens the text, it’s a picture of Stiles smiling at a café.

_Hi._

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr, if you'd like to say hi!](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com/) :D


End file.
